Stolen Idols

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER V

  The afternoon was still young when Mr. Johnson passed through the parkgates of Ballaston Hall and drove slowly down the village street on hisway back to the Great House. He studied the sign-post which marked theroad to Norwich and hesitated. At that moment a young woman stepped outof the grocer's shop and, recognising him, nodded in spiritless fashion.Mr. Johnson fancied that he caught an almost wistful expression as sheglanced critically at his car. He drew up by the side of the cobbledpavement.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Besant," he said.

  "Good afternoon," she rejoined, looking up as though surprised.

  "I thought of motoring in to Norwich," he confided. "I wonder whetheryou would care to come? It will take three quarters of an hour to anhour and I need not stay there for many minutes."

  "It sounds delightful," she admitted, "but I am afraid that it is quiteimpossible. Madame is very restless to-day and I am quite sure that shewould not allow it."

  "You might ask her," he suggested.

  She hesitated.

  "I might," she agreed doubtfully, "but I am afraid it would be scarcelyworth while asking you to wait."

  "Nonsense. I have nothing to do," he replied cheerfully. "Jump in andI'll drive you to the gate."

  "I'd rather you waited at the corner," she begged. "I'll come back andtell you, anyway."

  Mr. Johnson obeyed instructions. He drew up at the point where a by-roadcurved around to his own and the Little House and on to a chain ofrather remote villages, descended and glanced into his petrol tank, lita cigarette and settled down to wait. In a few minutes Miss Besantreappeared. He was conscious of a measure of disappointment which ratherpuzzled him when he saw that she was still without gloves or coat.Nevertheless there was a slightly eager expression in her face.

  "Madame has surprised me very much," she announced, as she paused by theside of the car. "She seems willing for me to go, but she would like tospeak to you first."

  "Delighted," Mr. Johnson replied, preparing to alight. "I proposedmyself as a visitor yesterday, as you may remember."

  The young woman nodded.

  "For some reason or another," she confided, "Madame is very curiousabout you. Directly I mentioned your name and said that you wereoutside, she told me to fetch you in. Please be careful what you say toher. She is very peculiar and every one humours her. Whilst you aretalking I shall get my coat and gloves."

  "I'll do my best," he promised her, as he held open the gate. "Don'tkeep me too long. I can foresee that conversation with Madame will bedifficult. I hope she knows that I have lived abroad for a long time andam unused to ladies' society."

  "You'll manage all right," she assured him encouragingly.

  She opened the front door and led him across the low, almost squarehall, oak-panelled to the ceiling and with several strange and, to Mr.Johnson's taste, not yet educated to futurism, extremely bizarrepictures upon the wall. Then she opened another door softly and beckonedhim to follow her.

  "This is Mr. Johnson who has come to live at the Great House, Madame,"she announced.

  She left him then, and Mr. Johnson crossed the room towards the couch.His curiosity concerning Madame rather increased as he bent down to takeher unexpectedly beautiful hand. She was lying flat on her back in asort of invalid chair, which was drawn up, as usual, to an open window,and from her waist downwards she was covered by a beautiful Chinese wrapof light texture. He was astonished by the lack of wrinkles in her face,the clearness of its complexion, the absence of any sign of illness. Alace scarf around her neck was fastened by an exquisite pin with ancientpaste gems, and the fingers of the hand which still remained in hisseemed ablaze with jewels, all of them with old-fashioned settings,which contained, however, some really fine gems.

  "So you are my new neighbour," she remarked abruptly.

  Her voice gave Mr. Johnson further cause for surprise. It was very lowand very musical, but it possessed other qualities which he found itdifficult to define.

  "I have come to live at the Great House for a time," he replied.

  "Why have you come here?" she demanded.

  He accepted the chair to which she had pointed imperiously.

  "It is a most extraordinary thing," he said, "but every person I havemet since I came here has asked me the same question. Why should I notchoose to come and live a quiet life in Market Ballaston? The placepleased me. I wished to live in the country--in Norfolk for choice--thehouse and the surroundings were just what I wanted."

  "I don't believe a word you're saying," she declared shortly.

  Mr. Johnson, himself something of an adept in the art of guardedconversation, was taken thoroughly aback. For a moment he could think ofnothing to say.

  "Why do you want to come and live in a house in an out-of-the-wayvillage like this--a house, too, in which another man was murdered? Doyou wish me to believe that it was chance, or, perhaps, morbidcuriosity, or had you another reason?"

  "My dear madame," Mr. Johnson assured her, "as to morbid curiosity, nota soul even mentioned the matter to me till after I had paid over thecontract deposit and secured the lease of the house."

  "Never mind whether they mentioned it or not," she persisted, her fineeyes challenging his. "Do you mean to tell me that you didn't know aboutit?"

  Mr. Johnson, thoroughly on his guard now, adopted a soothing tone.

  "How could I?" he expostulated. "I am a complete stranger to thisneighbourhood, and, as a matter of fact, I have spent most of my lifeabroad."

  "The man who was murdered," she continued--"you know he was mybrother--had also lived abroad. Had you met him?"

  "Coincidences are scarcely likely to multiply themselves," he remarkeddrily. "I hail from New York and your brother, I understand, had spentmost of his life in China."

  She lay quite still for a moment, her hands clasped. She seemed to beconsidering.

  "There is an idea here," she recommenced abruptly, "that you are eithera detective or that you have come here determined, for some reason ofyour own, to solve the mystery of my brother's murder, that you knew allabout it before you came, that you took the house on purpose. What aboutthat?"

  Her eyes seemed to be trying to bore their way through to the back ofhis head. Mr. Johnson remained imperturbable.

  "My dear lady," he protested, "I can assure you that this is a foolishfancy."

  She had raised herself a little, and she sank back now amongst thecushions. The hard insistence had gone from her eyes but she was stilluneasy.

  "I hope," she said, "that you are speaking the truth. I hope you are."

  "Mr. Endacott," he reflected, "was, as you have just reminded me, yourbrother."

  "He was," she admitted.

  "Then why," he asked, "do you feel so strongly upon the matter? I mean,supposing I were a detective--which I am not--or an amateurcriminologist, or anything of that sort, bent upon discovering thesecret of the crime at the Great House; surely you should welcome myefforts. Why not?"

  A gleam of horror lit her eyes.

  "You know nothing about it," she cried. "It is not a matter for any oneto meddle with. Ralph was my brother, it is true, but he is dead andthere is an end of it. I am his nearest surviving relative. It is for meto say. It is for no one else. If any one dares to interfere they shallsuffer."

  Once more she sank back, exhausted, amongst her pillows. Mr. Johnsonbent over her with the air of a doctor soothing a refractory patient.

  "My dear neighbour," he begged, "please believe that I am here for noevil or malicious purpose whatsoever. Under no circumstances should Iever take any course likely to bring distress upon you. I am not at allthe sort of person you think I am."

  "I trust not," she acknowledged a little wearily. "Have you taken afancy to my companion?"

  "I wouldn't go quite so far as that," he answered, smiling, "but I mustconfess that I find her a very pleasant young person. I was just offalone to Norwich and I thought that the ride there might amuse her."


  "Very well," Madame decided, "you can take her. Come in and see me againsome time. Come as often as you like. I am not altogether satisfiedabout you. I wish I were."

  The door was quietly opened, and Miss Besant appeared, dressed for herexcursion. Madame waved her hand in a little gesture of dismissal.

  "Is there anything I can do for you before I go?" the young woman asked.

  "Nothing," was the curt reply. "It will take you, I suppose, an hour togo to Norwich, an hour to frivol there, and an hour to return. See thatyou do not exceed that time."

  "Very good, Madame."

  "And Mr. Johnson!"

  "Madame," he answered, looking back from the door.

  "Come and see me to-morrow about the same time, unless you are engaged.If so, find out from Miss Besant what time will suit me. That is all.Good afternoon."

  Mr. Johnson followed his companion across the hall and out into thestreet. He was feeling a little dazed.

  "Madame," he remarked, "has a great deal of character, and alsovivacity, for an invalid."

  The girl remained silent. She climbed into the car with a little murmurof pleasure.

  "Madame," she declared, settling herself down contentedly, "is very muchstronger than she used to be. I shouldn't be in the least surprised ifshe recovered altogether, and then she won't need a companion anylonger."

  Mr. Johnson swung round the corner with the skill of a practised driver.

  "In that case," he observed, "my sympathies are divided."